


Cupid'sArrow.com

by zombie_socks



Series: E-Love [1]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meeting, Meddling, Online Dating, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9356714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombie_socks/pseuds/zombie_socks
Summary: "Katie, this is bad. Okay? This is-”“Going to get you off your ass and back into the dating world?”“It’s going to kill me.”“It’s online dating, Clint. It’s not a bomb.”“That’s what you think."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> A couple of things got stuck in my brain and combined to form the idea of putting Clint and Nat in different online dating aspects. I myself have never tried online dating, but I know people who have (some liked it, others didn't). I wanted to explore the idea of the pair in a modern setting with different relationships to the online dating scene: first time users, employees of the site, and online vs real life. I hope to have this 3-part series done by Valentine's Day with the last story posting on Feb. 14. The stories are connected by theme only, they don't follow sequentially. They're meant to be a fun exploration of modern dating life told with a narrative filter meaning they won't be 100% accurate. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the first story in the E-Love series.   
> \- Z-Socks
> 
> (Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.)

“I can’t believe you did this, Kate!”

“Will you relax?”

“No! This… Fuck, Katie, this is bad. Okay? This is-”

“Going to get you off your ass and back into the dating world?”

“It’s going to kill me.”

“It’s online dating, Clint. It’s not a bomb.”

“That’s what you think. But you’re young and cool and hip-”

“-Hip? What are you? Ninety?-“

“-and I’m barely employed, divorced, and on the wrong side of forty.” Clint sighs and sits down on his sofa, sinking in to the well-worn material. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Kate sits next to him, putting a comforting hand on his knee. “I did this because I care about you. You’re lonely, Clint.”

“I am not. I’ve got you and Lucky and… and my neighbor, and the pizza guy.”

Kate raises a brow.

“Yeah, okay. I hear how pathetic that sounds.” He sighs again and lets his eyes close with it. “But setting up an online profile for me? That’s got to be illegal or something.”

“Not illegal when you use your own credit card to cover the fees. That makes it a gift.” Kate pulls Clint’s laptop from the coffee table, enters his password while he grumbles about changing it (Kate knows he won’t), and pulls up the profile she’d made last night while Clint was passed out from a day of teaching archery classes and two beers after dinner. She hands him the computer and lets him read through the profile.

“ **Name** , **Clint, age forty-two, archery instructor.** Wow, fancy title for a guy who teaches spoiled teens to hold a bow.”

“Just keep reading.”

“ **Likes: dogs, outdoors, pizza. Dislikes: music after ’89 (not including 90s grunge), reality TV, pineapple pizza.** That’s not true. I don’t _dislike_ pineapple pizza; it’s my least favorite flavor.”

“And you wonder why you’re single.”

He sticks out his tongue at her and goes back to reading. “ **About me: I’m a chill guy with an adventurous streak and worldly education.** Nice way of saying I didn’t go to college. **Ex military**. **I like hiking, mountain climbing, and camping, but am also down for staying in and streaming Netflix for hours with some popcorn. I teach archery professionally at James Lowe-Watson Academy. I’m divorced and trying to get back out there, new to this site.** Do all the bios sound this braggy and stupid?”

“I tried to make it sound like you wrote it.”

“Nice. Thanks,” he replies sarcastically.

“Well it can’t be too bad. You’ve already got some hits.”

“What?” Clint sits up and pulls the laptop closer. “You mean these women actually like me?”

“Well… they probably like the picture I included of you holding a bow. Or the one of you and your dog. But yeah. They’re interested.”

“Huh? So should I message them back?”

“Why don’t you look at their profiles first?” She tries to keep her tone patient. Clint’s a fantastic archery instructor and overall good guy, but sometimes he leaps over the important steps, jumps without a parachute kind of thing. Kate figures that’s what drove Bobbi, Clint’s ex, up the wall more than anything. Bobbi could be spontaneous too, but her research job usually called for more procedure than impulsiveness.

Kate lets Clint investigate on his own, clicking on profiles, reading bios. She gathers up some bread and checks the fridge for the makings of a sandwich. All he has, though, is a half-eaten block of cheddar. Lemons to lemonade, she makes a grilled cheese. Taking the sandwich over to where Clint is still engrossed, she sits back down next to him and takes a bite of her lunch. “Any luck?”

Clint shrugs. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. I mean, they all seem nice and stuff.”

“You find any attractive?”

He shrugs again. “It’s been while. I’m not that picky.”

“Well have _some_ standards.”

“How about her?” He slides the computer over to her. Kate reads over the profile and frowns. “Sounds too much like Jess.”

Clint winces and moves on. The mess that was his relationship with Jessica Drew still haunts Kate sometimes. She’d never seen a worse match.

“Is spunk still a good thing?”

“It means something else now. Move on.”

Clint clicks around some more. Kate finishes her grilled cheese. She sets her plate down on the coffee table, shifting aside some _Guns and Ammo_ magazines and an empty pizza box. She looks back at Clint and watches his jaw drop.

“Her,” he says voice breathy, awe adorning his eyes.

Kate takes the laptop from him and blinks. “Holy shit. Are you sure she’s not a scam?”

Clint shakes his head. “I hope not. She’s…”

“Gorgeous.”

“Yeah. And smart too. Graduated with a degree in International Studies and minor in Russian. She speaks seven languages, four fluently. She works for Stark Industries. Likes being outdoors, traveling.” He looks at her. “Too good to be true?”

Kate presses her lips into a straight line. It does sound a little too good to be true. But Clint’s eyes are hopeful, begging. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him this anticipative about anything. But she doesn’t want him to get hurt; she’s seen that one a little two often. So she pulls out her phone. “I have a friend in HR of SI. I’ll call, see if she’s real.”

While Kate makes the call, Clint picks up her plate and makes himself a sandwich. He frowns at his near empty fridge. Didn’t he just go grocery shopping?

“What’s the word?” he asks around a bite of grilled cheese.

“She’s real,” Kate admits, but a note of hesitancy works into her tone.

“What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one.” She taps her phone against her leg. “That’s what disturbs me.”

“Well, only one way to find out.” He sits back down on the couch, grilled cheese on the plate balanced on the armrest, computer in his lap. “Hello,” he says aloud as he types. “Nice to meet you.”

…

Darcy’s phone _pings_. It’s not a new or unheard sound, quite the opposite, actually, so she lets it sit for a moment while she finishes processing some paperwork. Interning at Stark Industries’ marketing and communications department isn’t her ideal way of spending the day, but it pays and it looks good on her resume next to the summer she spent with noted astrophysicist, Jane Foster.

She initials a page and reaches over to check her phone expecting a reply text from a friend in Costa Rica but instead finds a notification from Cupid’sArrow.com: **New Message Reply**.

Darcy looks over her shoulder to make sure no one is paying attention to her (they rarely do but one never knows) before logging in to the account she’d made a few days ago. She’d been getting messages for days from desperate guys and had ignored all of them except the ones replying to messages she’d sent out. **Hello** , it says, **Nice to meet you.**

Darcy smiles. She had a good feeling about this guy when she came across him. The arms didn’t hurt either. Nor the adorable dog.

“Okay,” Darcy prepares herself. “Showtime.”

She gathers up her phone and steadies herself on her heels, taking a deep breath before leaving her cubicle. She walks a few feet to an office and knocks politely on the door. A “Come in,” is uttered distantly and Darcy pulls in one last breath then enters that has the potential to become her final resting place.

“Hey, Nat. What’s shaking?”

“Afternoon, Darcy,” Natasha greets. “What can I help you with?”

Darcy takes a seat and offers up her best smile. “So do you remember the other week when we got lunch, or rather ate lunch in the break room at the same time, and you were complaining about how hard it is to find a decent date and stuff?”

Natasha raises a rather serious brow.

Darcy goes on. “So don’t flip out or anything but-”

“What did you do?”

“I may have made you a profile on Cupid’s Arrow.”

Natasha scoffs.

“It’s the highest rated site. I did my homework. And believe me,” she shakes her phone for effect, “you’ve been a hit.”

“Darcy.”

“Now, like a good little assistant-”

“-You’re not my assistant-”

“-I’ve been screening and scoping out potentials for you and I’ve come across him.” She hands Natasha her phone with the profile pulled up.

Natasha looks at it, reads through the profile. “He sounds…interesting. I’m sure he’s very nice but-”

“But what?”

“I’m not sure I want to do this online thing.”

“It’s a very effective way of meeting people, Nat. And I already did the hard part. Plus got you a three-month subscription. So will you please just use the site and if you don’t like it you can cancel in three months?”  

Natasha sighs. “Fine. Care to give me the login information?”

Darcy grins and writes it down on a Post-It note. “He replied to your, er my, first message. Message him back.”

“I will when I’m not on company time.” There’s an underlying warning in it that Darcy doesn’t miss. She gives Nat the thumbs up and goes back to her desk, shooting a text to her friend in Costa Rica asking about rates of an off-season vacation. When asked why the inquiry, Darcy responds, **Possible Honeymoon.**

…

It’s been hours and there’s been no response to Clint’s message. He’d returned from his instructor position at the school, a three hour/five times a week gig that paid the bills as long as Kate supplemented rent, and checked his profile only to find no reply from Natasha.

“She was probably at work,” Kate advises. “Dinner?”

“I brought home pizza.”

For the first time in the years she’s known him, Clint doesn’t immediately stuff his face. She finds it concerning.

“She’ll reply,” she comforts, taking a bite of her own slice while offering Clint a piece on a paper plate. He takes the plate but sets it aside.

“Should’ve known she wasn’t interested.”

Kate refrains from rolling her eyes. If she had a nickel for every time Clint’s self-deprivation raised its ugly head, she wouldn’t need her father’s fortune.

“She’ll reply,” she repeats, pulling him out of this hole before he could dig it any deeper. “You should eat something.”

She turns on the TV and distracts Clint with episodes of _Dog Cops_ and its spin-off _Attorneys at Paw._ It works until the pizza is gone and he’s dozing off on the couch.

Then his laptop _pings_.

Clint opens his eyes, searching for the source of the sound. His eyes go wide when he sees a message box blinking in the corner of his profile. He clicks it and smiles broadly.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Kate states, gathering up the plates and empty pizza box. “See ya tomorrow, Clint.”

He gives her a distracted wave goodbye and engrosses himself in Natasha’s message: **Not sure this counts as “meeting” but hello all the same.**

Clint huffs out a laugh then types back: **Well I’m sort of new to this whole online thing. Don’t have all the bells and whistles figured out yet.**

He watches the little dots indicating she’s messaging back dance on his screen. **I’m new to it too. In fact, for the sake of honesty, my assistant actually made the profile for me.**

He grins at the coincidence. **For the sake of honesty, one of my former students made mine.**

There’s a pause; the dots dance for a long time. Clint wonders if she’s typing a long message or if she can’t decide what to say. **One might argue a kind of serendipity.**

 **Something like that.** He hesitates before adding, **(929) 555-5637 in case this whole online back and forth thing is too disconnecting.**

He waits for a few minutes, sensing them as eons before his phone rings. He scrambles to find it in the couch cushions and answers it just in time. “Hello?”

“ _Clint?”_

He finds himself smiling at the rich tone of her voice, at the way she says his name. “Hello, Natasha.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
